Mockolate Hearts
by simplymondler
Summary: Mondler Fluff. Set towards the end of the episode TOW the List.


A/N- Thank you so much to all you lovely people that read and reviewed Bamboozled. This is apparently another episode-based fic. See, my muse wasn't cooperating on any of the stories that I wanted to work on…then I found this little one tucked away at the back of my hard drive. I can't even remember when I wrote it but I dusted it off and tried to tidy it up so hopefully it's somewhat readable!

It's set towards the end of the episode TOW the List. Mondler Fluff (is there any other kind of fluff?)

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"Hey," came the weary voice.

Surprised, Monica turned her attention from the hectic stove onto a ruffled and rumpled Chandler. He was in his sleepwear, his bed-hair sticking up at all sorts of angles. She bit back a smile; he looked pretty damn adorable.

"Hi," she greeted, "You ok? What're you doing here?" she glanced over at the little display on the oven. "It's like 2am."

"I couldn't sleep," he grumbled, collapsing onto a kitchen chair, "I saw your light on and thought I'd see what was going on. Why the heck are you cooking at this hour?"

"Oh," Monica went back to her saucepan, turning down the heat on the bubbling devil liquid, trying to ignore the vile smell it was producing. "I'm seeing that mockolate guy tomorrow but so far every recipe I have sucks. I thought I'd try a few more quickly before bed. I need to come up with something…I need the money…"she sighed before a thought hit her. "Oh hey, will you be my taster as you're awake? Please?"

"I don't know," Chandler pulled a face, "according to Phoebe that stuff is pure evil."

"I'm glad to hear the reputation is spreading," she joked. "My new boss will be so proud."

When no response came she glanced back at her friend. He looked troubled, a frown marring his cute features; something was definitely bothering him and she suspected he was ready to open up and explain just what was weighing him down.

Turning the stove to the lowest heat setting and throwing a quick look into the oven to ensure its no doubt vile contents would be ok for a while longer, she came and sat down next to him at the table, her concerned gaze resting on him.

"What's keeping you up?" she asked gently, placing her hand on his bare arm, stroking a little, trying to comfort him at the same time as ignoring the ever-present spark between them.

"Ross and Rachel," he eventually admitted.

"What about them?" she frowned slightly.

There was no denying it was a horrible situation for everyone. It was horrible seeing her brother and roommate fight over the damn list. Horrible that they had come so close to being a couple and now there was a risk of it not happening for them. The tension in the group was horrible too…but it shouldn't worry Chandler so much that he couldn't sleep.

"Because you guys were right," he muttered miserably, "it's all my fault. This is happening because of me. I feel awful."

"Chandler…" she tried as she squeezed his arm but he shook his head.

"Rachel was quite happy with life until I went and screwed everything up by telling her about Ross' crush, and obviously that's just after I go and convince Ross to finally forget about her. Then they go through this horrible love-triangle thing with Julie, all because of me and then, when they finally get through that and are about to have what they've both wanted…boom! I go and suggest he create that stupid list on my stupid computer and manage to ruin everything yet again. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? You guys were completely right," he sighed heavily, "I am a dinkus."

"Every guy's a dinkus," she informed him with a soft smile to take out any sting from the words. "But you wanna know the difference between you and the other dinkuses of this world?"

"Dinkuses? Plural? Is that even a word?"

"It's the fact," she continued ignoring his interruption, "that you care enough to be worried about it, Chandler."

She scooted her chair closer to him, her arm coming around his slumped shoulders.

"Really?" he finally looked up at her, his blue eyes revealing his rarely-seen vulnerability.

"Really," she promised, hugging him to her. "You're not the only one at fault here. You may have suggested the list but Ross didn't have to go along with it. He's the one that came up with the ideas right?"

"Yeah," he sighed though clearly not convinced.

"They'll figure this out. Rachel's just hurt and confused but I know how much she wants this. She really likes him and just needs some time. She's not going to throw everything away over a stupid list."

"A stupid list I made," he sighed.

"Sweetie," she hugged him closer again for a moment, "It may have been a dumb idea but you were just trying to help out your friend who was torn between two women, right?" He nodded. "Plus, I bet you just wanted a chance to use those built-in spreadsheets on that fancy computer of yours..."

The corner of his lips curved up into a smile, unable to deny the truth in her words.

"Plus, when you told Ross to move on at Christmas you had his best interests at heart. And when you told Rachel about that crystal duck it was a total accident…right?"

"Right," he reluctantly agreed with her.

"You haven't set out to sabotage them, these things happen."

"They happen because of me," he sighed.

"If it hadn't been for you letting that slip, they wouldn't even be here," Monica pointed out. "If you hadn't said anything, Rachel would be oblivious and Ross still with Julie. At least they know they're on the same page. What would have happened if, I don't know, Ross went and married Julie and you let it out in your best man speech or something and Rachel realized she'd missed out on something that she didn't even get a chance with? At least you gave them a chance now. The rest is up to them."

He scoffed unimpressed as the egg timer buzzed.

She offered him a last squeeze before rushing over to the oven and silencing the buzzer. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up Rachel; she was stressed and upset and needed to get any rest she could. If she was awoken at this hour it wouldn't be pretty.

"Does she know it was my idea?" Chandler asked as he watched her fuss with the oven. Not commenting on the unpleasant aroma.

"Who?" Monica frowned, putting on her novelty oven gloves and removing the first tray from the heat.

"Rachel, the list," he rolled his eyes at her inability to keep up. "Does she know it was my idea?"

"Oh," Monica screwed her face up in concentration, "I don't think so."

She moved the tray of cookies up higher, poking the mockolate cake and deciding to leave it where it was as she closed the oven door.

"Think it would help things if I told her?" he mused. "Then she might hate Ross a little less?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "I'm pretty certain it will make her hate you a little more."

"I can live with that," he shrugged. "I'd rather she be mad at me than Ross."

Monica smiled at him, he really was a good friend. How could he doubt himself so much?

"Just give her time to calm down but if you think it will help things then you can try and tell her but like I said, even though it wasn't his idea he's still the one that actually came up with those things."

"Well, apart from the chubby ankles," Chandler muttered, "that wasn't Ross."

"Please don't tell me that was your input," she still remembered how much it had hurt when he'd called her fat all those years ago.

"Of course not," he dismissed. "It was Joey."

Monica shook her head; men.

"Then why did you write it down?"

"Because I'm a dinkus?" he shrugged though his tone was a lot lighter than earlier.

"And we're back to square one," she laughed. "I'm going to put the kettle on. Want a brew?"

"Yeah, well only if you're happy for me to carry on sitting here, bringing you down as I wallow in my misery?"

"Anytime," she quipped but she meant it. She loved when they stayed up together and just talked. It strengthened the bond between them and she knew confidently that he'd always be there if she needed a shoulder; no matter how petty or insignificant her problem seemed. "And you aren't bringing me down. Besides, I'll be up for hours yet trying to get something vaguely edible. What about you though? Haven't you got work in the morning?"

"Meh," he shrugged a shoulder showing he clearly wasn't bothered by that fact.

They stayed in companionable silence as Monica made the drinks and brought over the steaming mugs and a small plate with four cupcakes.

"Um," Chandler eyed up the cakes fearfully. He usually loved Monica's cooking but didn't really want to catch food poisoning tonight, he felt bad enough as it was.

"Please?" she pleaded, her eyes bright blue, "Just one bite of each and tell me which you prefer…or can at least tolerate?"

With a good-natured grumble he took a bite, looking in pain as he quickly chewed it, swallowed and reached for his still steaming drink.

"Isn't that hot?" Monica questioned as he drank the burning liquid.

"Don't care," he rasped. "I'm sorry, I'm sure it has nothing to do with your cooking skills but that was…just not natural."

Monica sighed, but remained determined, "Well, that one had the most mockolate in, try the next one."

"Do I have to?"

"If you want to wallow here, that's my price."

"Fine…can't I at least try the one with the least amount of this mockolate crap and try building up?" he suggested but she glared at him.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled reaching for the next one. "I'm only doing this because you're my best friend, although after tonight you might lose that privilege. Joey's never forced me to be a guinea pig at 2.30 on a Wednesday morning."

"Joey doesn't know how to spell guinea pig," she pointed out with a smile, which faded as she watched him take the next bite and almost retch.

"You know," he coughed, looking pained as he took another premature sip of his tea. "I never thought I'd say this but I actually share the same view point as Phoebe on something. This stuff is the work of Satan."

Monica whacked him for his unhelpful input.

"Ow," he complained, "I think best friend rights are definitely going to Joey now, he doesn't hit me or force feed me."

She smiled, rubbing the spot she'd hit, "He'd never force feed you as Joey doesn't share food," she pointed out as she passed him the next cake.

"He'd probably share this." He went quiet and Monica watched as his expression turned serious once more. "You honestly think they'll get over this?" he asked softly, swallowing.

"I hope so," she said honestly. "But if they don't, it's not your fault. You need to believe that, Chandler. People do stupid things all the time in relationships. If they want to be together they have to be strong enough to handle that stuff otherwise it will fall apart eventually anyway."

He contemplated her words for a moment, playing with the unappetizing cupcake in his hands.

"Maybe that's why I avoid relationships," he eventually pondered, "because I know I'm just gonna do something stupid to ruin it and women won't think I'm worth the effort, so what's the point in even trying?"

"You avoid relationships because you attract women like Janice," she teased, relieved to see him chuckle. "And you're definitely worth the effort. If someone doesn't see that then they're just stupid and don't deserve you anyway."

He looked at her a moment, as if contemplating something but she couldn't quite read his look.

"Do you think relationships between friends are a good idea?" he asked quietly, hesitantly, still absently toying with the uneaten 'treat'.

Monica studied him, taking in the slight apprehension engraved on his features, wondering just what was going on in that complex mind of his.

"Yeah," she finally answered, placing a hand on his to stop him completely destroying the soul-destroying food in his hands, "I think they can be."

He stilled, his eyes darting up to hers quickly before he wet his lips hesitantly, "So, you don't think it's too big a risk?" he questioned. His eyes lost their nerve and went back to the cupcake, seeming fascinated by it. "I mean," he continued, "what if things go wrong like with Ross and Rachel? They may not be able to be friends again. The whole group is feeling the tension all because they risked becoming something more."

"I guess it depends on the friends in question," she replied carefully, still not fully understanding him. "Rachel is always going to be dramatic, it's who she is and Ross knows that. He knows her better than some stranger on a date would. He knows he messed up but knows how to try and apologize to her. Some other guy would just walk away but Ross climbed up the fire escape in the rain to declare his feelings for her. I know she made out it was a stupid idea but secretly it meant something to her that he went to that much effort. She likes grand gestures."

"I guess," he agreed quietly. "So would you do it?" he asked carefully.

"What?" She asked confused. "Climb up a fire escape in some big gesture? Maybe, if I had too but I'd prefer everything a little more low-key, subtle even."

He shook his head, "I meant risk a friendship…you know, for the sake of a relationship?"

Oh. She studied him, he seemed anxious and her heart rate sped up a little. Did he mean…?

"I guess so," she eventually replied, "Depends who it was."

"Who would it be?" he persisted gently. "If you had the choice of any of us, the girls included."

"Chandler!" she protested, getting up and heading to the oven, trying to put physical space between them. She was suddenly very aware of how intimate this all was. Together in the middle of the night, him in his nightwear as they stayed up together confessing secrets. It could get dangerous. Things could easily be revealed that shouldn't be. "I'm not answering that, now stop trying to put off eating that cupcake."

Hearing only silence she turned getting locked in his blue eyes for a moment before he looked away and obediently tried the last two cupcakes. With a breath, she pulled her attention away from him and onto the next hopefuls she took from the oven. She placed the freshly-baked cookies onto the cooling rack and turned off the stove. Cutting into the cake she cut a slice, popping it into a bowl and pouring over the hot sauce.

She walked over to him and pushed it in front of him.

"Cake number 4 wasn't too horrendous," he grumbled, staring at the bubbling sauce in front of him. "There's more?"

"Yep, after this mockolate cake and sauce, there's also some cookies."

"Oh the joy," he dead-panned, before looking from the cake to her face, "Come on, you never answered."

"I'm not answering it, it's a dumb game," she informed him knowing exactly what he was referring to. She had to remind herself it was dangerous territory.

He swallowed, before quietly saying, "Who said anything about it being a game?"

She froze, her heart in her throat. Did he actually just say that?

"Chandler?" she frowned as he shook his head quickly.

"Sorry, just ignore me," he dismissed hastily, "I'm just uh tired and still worried about this Ross and Rachel thing….and to top it off I'm probably suffering side-effects from this little food experiment you're forcing me to endure."

She carried on studying him a moment, trying to interpret his strange behavior. Was he really tired or was he actually wanting to discuss 'them'. They often flirted with the line but had never fully discussed 'them' or what it would be like.

She'd been right. This was dangerous, stupid even but part of her refused to let this go. They were alone, actually on the subject and part of her just needed to see how far they were both willing to take this.

"Ok," Monica finally said, "I'll tell you if you tell me." He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, clearly surprised she was continuing this conversation even after he'd given her an out. "Tell me which one of us you'd pick," she insisted, "and don't worry, I won't be offended if it isn't me."

She wasn't sure if that were completely truthful but she'd put the ball back in his court. If he wanted to pause whatever this was, end their little game for tonight then he could. But if he wanted to continue, then she would too.

She held her breath, waiting to see what he'd do.

"What about if it is you?" he said quietly, looking up and meeting her eyes.

She swallowed, her eyes searching his desperately, praying he knew what he was doing, knew that if they went down this route than there would be no return. Not for her. "That would be ok," she admitted softly, "and…it would be a 'ditto' situation."

There. She'd done it.

She watched as he smiled a little, before he dropped his gaze as he chewed on his bottom lip.

"So," he started quietly, carefully, "Would we be worth the hypothetical risk?"

She swallowed again, ducking her head as hundreds of thoughts crashed through her. Were they ready to attempt this? Two neurotic best friends, young and desperately trying to scramble their way through life. Did they stand any chance of making it?

Her gaze fell on him as he quietly waited for her verdict. He looked so vulnerable which just helped cement the decision that was warming her heart as it pounded in her chest. He would always be worth the risk. They would always be worth the risk.

"I think so," she finally confessed. "I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about it."

"That's good," he risked a look at her, a cute boyish smile touching his lips, as he hesitantly reached out a hand, letting his fingertips lightly touch her skin. "Cause I've pretty much done nothing but think about it lately."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded gently, "Is that ok?"

"More than ok," she nodded back slowly, digesting everything. Letting the reality set in. This was real, actually happening.

"I was kinda waiting," he started talking as she remained silent, "I think you're pretty perfect in every way going, Mon. I mean you're beautiful in every sense of the word. You get my sense of humor and laugh at my jokes. You're kind, caring, thoughtful and deliciously quirky.

"I thought there was something between us, hoped there was but I really didn't want to risk our friendship as it…this, works so well. So, I turned to Ross and Rachel. If they could make two friends work then I thought why not us? Why don't we at least talk about it and if you were anywhere close to the same page then maybe give it a shot…but seeing as they've crashed and burned already, I guess it's not such a good idea, huh?"

He looked down at his drink, wrapping his hands around the warm mug as he awaited for her reaction.

She frowned, her stomach dropping. Did he mean that? Had they finally stopped dancing around each other, braved the talk…only to give up before they started just because of Ross and Rachel's situation. No, she couldn't do that. Couldn't let him do that.

"They haven't crashed and burned just yet," she said quietly, causing him to look up with a hopeful expression. "They're just doing things the hard way. We aren't them. Whether they make it or not has no impact on us making it…as long as you haven't got a cons list about me on that computer of yours?"

"No chance," he shook his head quickly. "If I wrote a pros and cons list about you it would be all positives, no negatives in sight."

She scoffed, "Yeah right. I can think of some straight away. I'm too competitive, I get caught up in rules and stupid little details that shouldn't matter, I have like 11 towel categories…"

"I thought it was 10?"

"I added one," she dismissed easily, "I-"

"Mon," he took her hand gently in his. She watched and felt as his thumb started stroking her skin again, causing little goosebumps, "they aren't reasons not to be with you. They're little adorable quirks that make you you. I couldn't fall you, couldn't risk all this if I didn't like those things about you."

"You didn't think that the other week when I was helping you lose weight," she pointed out quietly.

She'd loved having a reason to spend time with him, just the two of them without the others. She'd loved helping him too and getting to see him all puffy and sweaty, his t-shirt clinging to his chest. But she'd pushed it too far and he'd fired her and it had made her feel pretty lousy.

"Only because I was lazy," he promised her. "Monica, I like that you're passionate and dedicated about things. I love that you care so much and that you want the best for your friends."

She smiled, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes. She couldn't quite believe what was happening tonight. It felt rather surreal as to how natural it all felt. Like it was slowly clicking into place. No grand light bulbs going off, no confetti or streamers. It was understated. No big deal.

She liked it.

"So," he asked squeezing her hand and offering her a tug of a smile, "even if we do want to do this, do you think the group can handle it? Another couple within a week of the first? Especially given the frail state of that first couple. Do we wait?"

"No," she shook her head. Waiting was not an option here.

"No to waiting or no to the group dynamics?" he asked worriedly.

"Both. I don't want to wait Chandler. I think we could be really good together but at the same time I don't think our friends can take any more drama right now."

"Oh," he swallowed, clearly disappointed, misunderstanding her meaning, "I get that."

"No," she shook her head, scooting closer to him and waiting for him to meet her eyes. "I didn't mean that. What I meant was if they can't handle it, we don't tell them. It's as simple as that. We keep it to ourselves, a secret, we adjust to it in private and just be discreet about it until it's the right time."

"Really?" his face lit up and Monica enjoyed the warm feeling that spread through her at the hope in his eyes. Proof that he wanted this as much as she did.

"Yeah," she promised, bringing her hand up to caress a lightly-stumbled cheek. "If you're game that is?"

"I'm definitely game," he promised, locking his eyes with hers, letting unspoken messages and reassures pass between them.

Knowing they were both in the same place, they slowly leaned forwards and their lips met in a soft kiss. It was gentle and tender as they both enjoyed the new sensations being created between them.

They pulled apart, but neither moved far away. They studied each other and then came together harder, the passion growing. She felt his hand in her hair, tangling in the strands as he pressed his lips more firmly, more desperate as the kiss deepened.

Needing to be closer, she moved from her chair, coming to his, straddling his lap. He groaned in approval, his arms automatically wrapping around her waist pulling her body as close to him as possible as they continued to make-out.

Eventually the need to breath forced them to break apart, both breathing heavily as they stared into each other's intense eyes.

"I wasn't expecting that," Monica finally admitted, about to climb off him when his arms tightened in protest.

"We must be doing something right," he agreed pulling her back down for another kiss, followed by another.

She couldn't believe how right this all felt. Unfamiliar sensations were coursing through her body, her head starting to spin. He was doing that to her. They were doing it. The two of them together had such great chemistry.

Monica pulled away, needing to catch her breath, her eyes closing as he started to place his lips to her sensitive neck. God, there were no words. "Shall we move this to the bedroom?" she asked breathlessly.

Regretfully he pulled his lips away, his dark eyes meeting her passion-filled ones. He swallowed.

"You're sure?"

"Hell yes, very sure," she grinned, her hands playing his hair, ruffling it before placing a firm kiss on his lips. "I want to be with you, Chandler."

He swallowed, his eyes turning an even darker shade of blue, "I wanna be with you too," he admitted, "You're sure though? I can wait. I mean-"

She pressed her lips to his again, hard and demanding, thrilled as he gave in and started passionately kissing her back. When they broke apart he simply nodded, "Ok."

Monica moved off him, feeling his fingers on her hips as he stood up and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her as he held her captive.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," he murmured. "We're actually doing this."

"I know," she smiled, "I feel the same way."

She pressed her lips to his as her arms came around his neck. Slowly, he started to walk her backwards towards her bedroom.

"Wait!" he stopped quickly, "What about your cooking thing tomorrow? Don't you need to come up with something edible?"

"I'll think of something," she promised quickly, pulling his lips back down to hers, "Don't worry about it."

"Ok," he agreed easily, a large smile on his face as he kissed her again, "but just so you know, I draw the line at testing mockolate body paint."

The End.

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As always I'd love love love to hear any thoughts :o)


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